and showed him the spot. The hunter stooped and carefully examined the bush.
"I'm now satisfied," said he, "that I was right. That rag was left there by a savage for the express purpose of misleading us. We must seek Ina in another direction."
"Haldidge," said Haverland earnestly, "I place great reliance upon your skill and judgment, but it strikes me at this moment that you are acting capriciously against reason."
"There's but one way to decide it; will you agree to it?" asked the hunter smilingly. The other two expressed their willingness, and he produced his hunting knife. For fear that some of our readers may be apprehensive of the use to which he intended putting it, we will describe his modus operandi at once. Stepping back a pace or two, the hunter took the point of his knife between his thumb and fore finger, and flung it over his head. As it fell to the earth again, the point was turned directly toward the trail of the lesser party.
"Just what I thought," remarked the hunter with another quiet smile. The mooted question was now settled to the satisfaction of all, and our three friends turned unhesitatingly to the westward upon the trail of the smaller party.
How much sometimes hangs upon the slightest thread! How small is the point upon which great events often turn! The simple fact of the direction in which the blade of the hunting knife remained when it fell, decided the fate of every character in this life drama. Had it pointed to the northward, an hour later the three would have walked into an ambush intended for them, and every one would have been massacred. The hunter was right. Ina Haverland had gone with the smaller party.
